Bound Obsession (BDSM Erotica) (Club Taboo Book 1) (4 page)

“Leave me alone!” she begged. “I don’t want you. I… I don’t want this.”

Drawing back with murder in his eyes, Walter formed his own fist, and Abigail cringed as he seemed ready to strike.

“You fucking cock tease,” Walter hissed. “Who the hell do you think---?”

His question came to a stop with a surprised grunt. As soon as she felt Walter’s shadow leave her body, Abigail looked up again, her eyes moist with the beginnings of tears, and then she saw Walter put in his place.

Chapter 4

“You.”

The tone in Walter’s voice told Abigail that he knew the man. And he was obviously not at all pleased to see him. Abigail watched Walter crumble to the ground, and as he fell from her view, she caught sight of her surprise savior.

He was older than Walter. By ten years at least. He had steely blue eyes bathed in warmth sitting above a lightly lined face. His tousled hair was light brown bordering on red, and even through the creases of his pinstriped suit, she could tell that he had muscles to spare.

And at this moment, he was using them to save her from a monster.

“This one’s mine,” Walter said.

Ignoring him, the stranger stepped forward. As he stood before Abigail, he did not touch her, but his eyes were so full of worry that she felt as if she was already wrapped in his protective embrace.

“Is that right?” the stranger asked.

Abigail started to blurt out
no
when she suddenly held her tongue. He was giving her the chance, the choice, to dictate what she wanted or didn’t want. It seemed strange that a man with that attitude would be in this place where everything was focused on male orders and female submission. But even as she didn’t know his name, knew nothing but the hum in her chest when she looked at him, she found the strength to speak the truth.

“I… I don’t,” Abigail said.

Walter scoffed as he got back on his feet.

“You sought me out, you little bitch!” Walter bellowed.

She flinched at the sound of his voice and started to conceal her face in his hands. Before her eyes were hidden, the stranger whirled around. Catching Walter by his throat, he pressed him back to the ground, pushing his head to the floor with each word.

“Show some respect!” he ordered. “The lady said no.”

The stranger tightened his grip, but Walter flailed and kicked. When he landed a sharp blow to his side, the stranger lost hold and fell back. Crying out, thinking of nothing but his safety, Abigail dropped to her knees and took hold of his shoulders.

“Are you alright?” she whispered.

Not hearing her, the stranger was on his feet in an instant as Walter charged forward. He ducked as Walter made a move to punch him, and Abigail winced as the stranger’s fist smashed into Walter’s ribs. Doubling over in pain, Walter spat and let loose a string of obscenities.

“I’ll kill you for that you---”

“Hey! This is a professional establishment!”

The return of Mistress Serena quelled the fight, and when Walter tried to lunge again, she stopped him with a quick smack and a harsh glare.

“Do I have to tell you again, Mr. Ross?” she demanded. “No more rough stuff.”

Quivering, Abigail felt as if she would faint, but the stranger caught her in her arms, and she rested her head to his shoulder as the man kept her close.

“Then what’s the point?” Walter challenged. “Why the fuck are any of us here?”

Why was she here? This wasn’t her scene. She wanted to grab her coat and run, but the stranger kept her at his side, and when their eyes locked, Abigail relaxed around his smile.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. “You’re okay.”

Mistress Serena snapped her fingers, and two burly bouncers picked Walter Ross up by his arms.

“Take out the trash,” she ordered. “And his privileges are revoked until he gets with the program.”

Walter protested as he was dragged away, and at the last second, his glare returned in full force.

“I saw her first, Dorson!” he screamed. “You had no---”

Walter was gone, and Abigail finally relaxed. Before she had a chance to swoon, the stranger, Dorson, lifted her into her arms and settled her in a quiet booth as the party slowly resumed.

“Don’t worry about him. He won’t bother you anymore.”

Abigail tried to nod, and Dorson touched her face as he smiled.

“Just glad I got to you in time,” he said.

She was more than glad for his intervention. She had no idea how it had happened or why he was here. So he had to have his own plans for her, and maybe this was just the calm before an even greater storm. But he could have followed Walter into one of the back room and gotten in on the fun. He hadn’t made that move; he had rescued her from Walter’s clutches.

So maybe he was as green as she was.

“Pat, what the fuck?”

Mistress Serena was back, and when Abigail realized that the pair was on a first name basis, all of her hopes that he was something of a virgin started to fade away. Dorson rose to his feet as he kept Abigail’s hand in his.

“You know I keep my eye on him,” he said. “Always---”

“Let it go already,” Mistress Serena said. “We are not talking about it.”

Abigail’s curiosity was piqued as Mariah flew into view and hugged her close.

“Abby! Are you okay?”

She was about to answer, when Mistress Serena stamped her foot.

“So much for your bonus, Mariah,” she started. “Looks like your little friend tried and failed spectacularly.”

Abigail was on the verge of admitting defeat when the stranger intervened yet again.

“With him?” he started. “I’d call that a good thing.”

“Pat---”

“Why did you even let him back inside?”

Mariah joined the stranger in his challenge, and Abigail was stunned at the sight of Mistress Serena starting to wilt under the force of the interrogation. Looking to Mariah, Abigail’s eyes loaded with questions, and her friend swiftly pressed her lips to Abigail’s ear and whispered fast.

“Walter takes things to far,” Mariah said. “I… I should have told you to keep an eye out for him.”

But it wasn’t Mariah’s fault. Everything that had nearly happened was attributable to Abigail’s foolish pride and the idiotic belief that she could handle this when she had no business in the club.

“She went to him,” Serena said. Abigail was on the verge of apologizing for the bad call when Dorson, Pat, whoever he was took her hand again.

“Then I’d say you’re the one that screwed up,” he said to Serena. “Now here.”

Pressing his hand into his pocket he revealed a wad of bills. Separating the stack, he handed half to Mistress Serena and cocked his head.

“That should cover any damages and more,” he said. “So it’s all good.”

As Abigail still cowered, Serena started to tell her that she was to collect her thing, go and never be seen again. But once again her white knight took command.

“Now I wouldn’t want that,” he said. “In fact…”

He smiled down at her softly but stopped short of touching her hair.

“Maybe I want to buy her a drink.”

Yes. She wanted that, too. After Walter Ross, maybe because of him, she had somehow chanced upon someone kind, and when Mariah nodded and assured her the man was okay, Abigail suddenly wanted to know more.

“Fine,” Serena said. “But another scene like that, and you are done.”

Her heels clicked as she sashayed away, and Mariah guided her back to her feet.

“Okay?” Mariah asked.

She was not sure if she was, but the stranger extended his hand, and Abigail took it tentatively.

“You’ll look out for her?” Mariah asked.

The man nodded, and when Mariah’s partner summoned her back to his side, Abigail silently assured her friend that she was fine. She was already on thin ice, and Mariah didn’t deserve that same fate. So she just smiled, but as soon as Mariah was gone, Abigail started to fall again.

“Easy, easy.”

He sat her down and took her hand from across the table. In candlelight, he was even more handsome, and his hand, while calloused, felt warm and strong against her flesh. Had she seen him side by side with Walter Ross, she still would have opted for the latter. And it still would have been a mistake. So maybe that was the reason why she was here. To learn what it was to understand the meaning of surprise.

“Thank you,” she started. “I don’t know what would have happened---”

“I do.”

His voice brought fresh trembles to her skin. The stranger had seen aspects of Walter Ross that she could only imagine with fear, and Mariah obviously knew more than what she was saying. How could her friend have let her get so close to that? For that matter, how could Serena? Abigail started to flee again when he held her in place and smiled.

“But it didn’t,” he said. “I’m thankful. Are you?”

She was. His hand in hers felt good, and even as her mind longed for more answers, she pushed them aside when he touched her face.

“And you are okay?”

When she looked at him, she was more than okay. Her trembling began to subside, and even as Abigail started to move past her moments with Walter Ross, she had to ask how he knew.

“Knew what?”

“Well… I mean… Mr. Dorson---”

“You can call me Patrick” he said. “I want that.”

Patrick.

That fit. He had smiling Irish eyes, and she felt confident enough to ask her question again.

“How---?”

“Ross is a sadist,” he said, cutting her off. “And that’s not what this place is about.”

He sounded like Mariah, his voice promising that there was no real harm here. But she had seen something to the contrary, and as she shook her head, he touched her face.

“Hey,” Patrick said. “Look at me. Just look at me.”

Obeying his order without fear, she sighed into his gaze and reveled in the feel of his fingers on her flesh. It was sudden, but something about it felt certain.

“Nice,” he said. “Lovely.”

Abigail fell deeper into his hand, and Patrick kept her close. The party was a mass of thumping beats and satisfied moans, and a part of Abigail thought that she could move to the back with him and allow him to show her what he was about. He would be kinder than Walter Ross, and as she rose to her feet, Abigail thought that that was something, and she needed to hang onto it.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said.

He had to have heard
Abby
, and as soon as she repeated it he shook his head.

“But it’s really Abigail, no?”

It was. And she liked the sound of it as it left his lips. He had done nothing to suggest any state of fear, and even as she trembled at her surroundings, she would follow him to the back and see, feel what he could do.

“Abigail?”

He started to lead her to the back. She though she heard Mariah’s voice calling out for more. Would she make the same noises when he pressed her to an abandoned bed? It was all that she could hope for. Patrick might have played the savior, but he was only here to get his rocks off. At least his touch was gentle, and as she took a deep breath, Abigail was ready to see this through and keep her new job.

“So… so should we just---”

Pulling her closer, he suddenly led her out into the night, and as the cold wind hit her back, she started to ask him what was going to happen next when he lightly kissed her lips and stroked her hair.

“We should head back to my place.”

That was the last thing that she had expected. So was this a date? A kind of a date? As he offered her his coat, she relaxed around the pinstripes. Her own coat, her bag were still trapped inside the club, but she believed that Mariah would collect her belongings and find her in the light of the dawn. Right now, she yearned to keep following Patrick.

“So are you coming?” he asked.

With one push on his phone, a town car raced up the alley, and Patrick held a door open for her. Stepping slightly, she breathed in the leather and thought that it was a safe place to hide.

“I think I am,” Abigail said.

Crawling into the car, she settled her body against the opposing glass and kept her ear open as Patrick spoke to his driver. The car sped away from the club, and Patrick pocketed his phone and touched her shoulder.

“I’m glad that you’re coming,” Patrick said. “I… I think… no.”

He leaned closer and his lips grazed against hers, but he didn’t claim her mouth with a kiss.

Patrick just breathed into her hair.

“I like you,” Patrick said. “And I hope you like me.”

In the span of minutes, she did. As the streetlights flashed across his face, he seemed to grow more handsome with each twist of the car. Abigail’s heart beat faster in her chest, and when she leaned into him, suddenly smelling the spicy scent of pine wafting off of his suit, she thought that he had to have something else in mind beside whips and chains. If that was all he could offer, then he would have kept her at the club, fucked her, and handed her the rest of his money before he took his leave. But instead, he was taking her someplace else. When the car pulled up to a service door, Abigail started to shake all over again, but Patrick calmed her with his touch.

“No one else will see you,” he said.

The presence of his driver immediately seemed to eradicate that promise, but Patrick took her arm and brought her to a dark elevator. As soon as the doors closed and the car started to ascend, Abigail took his hand and smiled.